Monday, Monday...

I'm channeling the Mamas & Papas, lucky for you this is visual and not audible. I'm a terrible singer. Well, I finished my first adult-size sweater yesterday. Of course, it'll be months until I can wear it because it's wool and heavy wool at that. But I love it. It's red and the yarn's called Licorice so it's a Red Licorice sweater to commemorate me quitting smoking with the help of bags and bags of red licorice. Enough patting myself on the back and on to writing--

July 27--You're in a movie theater--He's sitting there next to me, eyes riveted to the giant screen. I can see the shapes and colors reflected in his eye. His bangs hang in a tangle over his forehead. I'm tempted to reach over and smooth them but I can't, too many people would see me and then they'd tease him--and me too probably. I can feel the heat from his body radiating my way as I watch his hand dip into the jumbo tub of popcorn we're sharing. My older sister told me that the fake butter they put on it makes zits but I just couldn't say no when the counter guy asked if we wanted extra. Especially when Jeremy said yes so eagerly. God, dating's expensive. Movie tickets were eight bucks each and the popcorn and two soda was twelve bucks. I'd better get my arm around his shoulder or a hand on his leg so I can get a little payback for all I've spent on him today.

Better go make my lunch and get ready for work. I'm totally frustrated with this whole writing thing. I keep thinking we need a break but I'm afraid if we quit we'll never start up again. And that would be a shame, as well as a waste.
--Barbara